


Bribery Will Get You Everywhere

by ktbl



Series: Wabi-Sabi [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Canon Compliant, Chocolate, Developing Friendships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gency, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Physical Therapy, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24680518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: Genji wanted to curse her, to damn her and Reyes and Morrison for eternity. He seethed inside with anger and frustration, his close companions ever since his father had died. He wanted to rage at her as he had months ago when he and Hanzo had argued, and this entire nightmare had begun. But that would not do. Instead, he summoned up the last thin strands of his composure, the dignity and restraint his family had attempted to ingrain in him, and only exhaled.“Again,” came the precise Swiss voice. He looked up to his doctor, his tormentor, his torturer. Her blonde hair was fastened back in a loose ponytail as it almost always was during his physical therapy sessions, though strands had escaped and curled around her face and head like a halo. She stood a few short steps away, looking down at him with that expression he hated, the endlessly compassionate look, pretty mouth turned up in an encouraging smile. “You can do it, Genji.”
Relationships: Genji Shimada & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: Wabi-Sabi [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791523
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Bribery Will Get You Everywhere

Genji wanted to curse her, to damn her and Reyes and Morrison for eternity. He seethed inside with anger and frustration, his close companions ever since his father had died. He wanted to rage at her as he had months ago when he and Hanzo had argued, and this entire nightmare had begun. But that would not do. Instead, he summoned up the last thin strands of his composure, the dignity and restraint his family had attempted to ingrain in him, and only exhaled.

“Again,” came the precise Swiss voice. He looked up to his doctor, his tormentor, his torturer. Her blonde hair was fastened back in a loose ponytail as it almost always was during his physical therapy sessions, though strands had escaped and curled around her face and head like a halo. She stood a few short steps away, looking down at him with that expression he hated, the endlessly compassionate look, pretty mouth turned up in an encouraging smile. “You can do it, Genji.”

“I cannot, Doctor Ziegler. These are not my feet. These are not my legs. They do not move as I tell them to.” He hated her sometimes, especially when she was like this, so hopeful when he was so angry. He hated that she knew him better than he knew himself now. He hated that she treated him like he wasn’t some horrific monstrosity of man and machine, was just a normal man trying to recover from a devastating injury, like he hadn’t been torn asunder at all. She saw all of him, and he hated it.

“Stand up, Genji, and try again. You can do it, if you try. I know you can.” There was no pity in her voice, just endless patience, compassion, encouragement.

She was his doctor, but he very badly wanted to do uncharitable things to her - but they all required that he gather up his body again and stand up to do them. He wanted to get back at his brother, to get back at the Shimada, to prove that he was not just the wastrel playboy they’d believed him to be. But that - all of that - required standing up, and his manmade limbs refused to cooperate. He clenched his left hand into a fist; his left hand, the only one that still obeyed him.

“What I want, Doctor Ziegler, is for these mechanical parts to listen to me and do as I tell them to!” He scowled in frustration and felt the burn of shame deep in his belly, especially at the loss of composure in the face of his doctor. No matter how much he couldn’t stand her at times, she had still brought life back to him, given him another chance. Some days, he was almost grateful. At the moment, he definitely was not. He tried to gather his legs beneath him again, and they refused to obey his mental commands. She crouched down beside him, and gently reached out a hand.

“It takes time. You have done very well today, and you will keep doing well, as long as you don’t give up.” He hated that she sounded so reasonable about it. She was far more convinced than he was. “Stand up, and I will get the - supports for you, if you need them.” He let the scowl deepen; she knew him, knew his pride. The supports she spoke of so carefully were actually nothing more than a geriatric’s walker, down to the tennis balls on the feet, so he could shuffle around. He burned to throw it out of a window, fling it into a lake or the sea or whatever there was outside. “Do you need help to stand?”

“I can do it,” he said finally. “I can do it myself.” It took several long moments and multiple attempts to gather his feet beneath him. The hydraulics and cables and metal and rubber that covered the stumps above the knee and down still did not feel right, like they were part of him. She edged back just enough to give him space to move, fine wrinkles appearing in her brow as she watched him. She rose slowly and steadily as he did, her hands spread wide in case he tottered and looked to hurt himself.

“Good, good!” A smile broke her face again. She looked back behind her and he followed her eyes to the refrigerator at the side of the lab.

“I am not a dog, doctor.”

“No, you’re not.” Her voice sobered as she turned back to him. “You’re a human being, and being able to take half a dozen steps unassisted today is excellent progress, when only a few weeks ago your body was trying to reject the new cybernetics.” She reached a hand out to him, taking his prosthetic one in hers. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, and she beamed again. “Two weeks ago, you would have crushed my hand, your fine motor control not nearly so good. It’s far more natural today. Even a week ago, it would have been more difficult. You’re getting so much of the fine motor control back. You are so determined, you’re making such amazing progress. Do you think you can do four more steps?”

“Why?” He didn’t recoil from the warmth of her hand, looked down at her soft, fragile, but terribly steady and strong hand, tucked into the wire and metal and plastic construction at the end of his right arm, like it didn’t matter at all that it wasn’t his hand.

“I,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes, “got a present two days ago. That I would be willing to share, on the condition that you say nothing to anyone.”

His interest was piqued; Genji had always liked the finer things in life, the more expensive, rare, and fancier, the better. There had been benefits to being a Shimada, all lost to him now. And his doctor did not seem the type to keep many secrets. In fact, he could probably read her like a book if he put his mind to it.

“Why?” He repeated the words, watching her face for any sign of dissembling. There were none as she spoke, her voice dropping low.

“Because I will have to hear everyone else complain I didn’t share with them. I don’t usually share these.” She delicately extracted her hand from his, and took a step back, towards her desk. Genji closed his eyes and focused on his feet, on the connections between his thighs-that-were-still-flesh and the contraptions that let him walk. One step. He could take one step.

He did, feeling that sense of almost-but-not-quite no balance. He made to slide his other foot along, and caught the slightest frown on her face, that disappointment, and somehow it made him feel like a four year old, caught out with an extra candy he shouldn’t have had. He adjusted his balance, lifted his foot, and took the next, small step. Two.

“Good. Halfway. Two more, and I will share.” She turned, and took steps - more than two - to the refrigerator. He followed her with his eyes, watching the way her thighs and knees and calves and feet moved in graceful, easy steps. The way the muscles under her leggings bunched and released, the way her hips moved to carry her stride, not just her thighs and knees and ankles, but all the joints in some kind of harmony. She bent over and pulled out a box from the bottom, and turned back, meeting his eyes. “And if you tell anyone about this, Genji, I will not share again. Ever. As long as you are with us.”

“What-“ He stopped himself as she walked closer, and then stepped back from him, three steps. Three full, adult steps, not shuffling steps. She kept her eyes on his as she opened the elegant embossed cardboard box and revealing a still mostly-full box of chocolates. She’d eaten at least four, he could see. “Chocolate? You are bribing me with _chocolate_?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice.

“If you don’t want it, I will eat it. A friend sent them to me, and I have yet to meet a soul who does not enjoy good chocolate. These,” she said, frowning ever so slightly, “are Belgian, not Swiss. But they are good enough. I know there are several others who would like to get their hands on them, if you do not.”

“I-“ He couldn’t keep his tongue from darting out and licking his lips. “I have always enjoyed chocolate.”

“Then I will put these here.” She set them on he desk - six steps away - and rolled her office chair back to him, keeping it three steps away. “Two more steps, Genji,” she coaxed, “and you can have some. Not all,” she added, shaking a finger at him, “because even I am not that generous. But some.”

Two steps. He could take two. He’d already taken eight.

He spread his arms, focusing his balance, lifted his foot again, set it down with slow deliberation and felt his knee give out, or not hold, or whatever it was the horrible thing did, except then it _stopped_ and he was only in a crouch. He did not look at her - did not want to see the smile or the frown, not sure which would have been worse. He focused again, taking a deep breath and straightening up, shuffling his other foot forward to catch up, and rose. He still did not look at her, but took another very careful step. Two. He wanted to take a third, a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, too proud for the charity of being rolled around in her office chair, and lifted himself for the third step, and found himself tumbling down again.

Her hand was there to catch him under one arm, the cybernetic arm, and he watched his fingers dig into her lab coat and knew that in clutching her, he had to be bruising her. There was the little pained suck of breath from her, but the damned grip would not release, not release, not release, and then it finally did and he pulled his arm away with a speed he did not know it had.

“Doctor-“

“I’m fine. Really.” She knelt down fully, the better to help him, and turned her head to try to meet his eyes. He kept his turned away for several moments, not wanting to see the disappointment on her face. “I’m still with you, Genji. I’m not going anywhere.” He finally looked over, and saw that little smile bowing her lips again. “It’s good to push yourself - but ten steps is enough for today. I keep my promises. Let me give you a hand up.”

“You are a terrible woman,” he said finally in frustration. He regretted the words as soon as he’d said them, and did not expect the laughter that followed.

“I am,” she agreed, much to his surprise. “I will not let you give up, because you are not that type. You would never have agreed to this if you were. You are a fighter, and you are perhaps one of the most stubborn people I have ever met.” Her mouth twisted into a dry smile. “And that says a lot, given the people we work with. Sit down. You’ve earned a treat.”

Grudgingly he rose, and then promptly dropped into the chair. It made a small noise of protest at his weight - he’d noted he and the good doctor were of the same height, but his new augmentations meant there was a significant weight difference. She pushed the chair to her desk, and motioned to the box.

“Take two,” she said, nudging him in the shoulder with a grin, “and call me in the morning. Doctor’s orders.”

“Only if you share them with me, doctor,” he said cheekily, and was almost surprised by his own effrontery. She would have no idea what sharing chocolates entailed in Japan - and it was nowhere near the holiday, either.

“As if I would take them out and not enjoy them myself.” There was a haughty expression on her face for just a moment, and she plucked one from the box. She pushed the box towards him. “And right now, I’m not your doctor. I’m just… Angela.”

He picked up one of the chocolates with his left hand, not wanting to risk misbehavior on the part of his right. He could see it now, a squeeze that would crush the box, or one of the delicate chocolates, and send it everywhere. Once, it would have been funny, and he might have done it on purpose so he could make excuses to get his hands on the girl he’d covered in chocolate. Now, the idea of doing something to his doctor mortified him. But to _Angela_? That… He couldn’t decide how he felt about that.

“Thank you, Angela.”

“You’re very welcome,” she told him, taking a bite of her own. “Now, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like - you’ve earned a rest, and I know Morrison and Reyes want to get every bit of Shimada information out of you that you can give them. As long as you’re in here, you’re off-limits to them.”

He bit into the chocolate to keep from having to respond immediately. This was good chocolate, and he closed his eyes for a moment to savor it. He heard a soft, delighted hum, and opened his eyes in surprise to find that he was making it - not her.

“You like them, then?” Her eyes were bright, and he caught the tip of her tongue licking a bit of the soft shell off the corner of her mouth. She clearly loved them, and was not going to miss even the smallest bit. It must have cost her quite a bit to share them.

“They are very good,” he allowed, for the first time finding some kind of - pleasure, satisfaction - since his near-death experience. He was profoundly grateful for it, and the sudden shift in emotions from frustration to pleasure threw him, and he took another bite.

“If you think these are quite good… Hah! I will have to arrange for some Swiss chocolates, proper ones, the next time someone goes from Gibraltar back to headquarters.” She tapped a finger on her lips, and then popped the last half of the chocolate into her mouth. “But I will make a deal with you. I will save these for you. And we will add, hm. Two steps, every time we do physical therapy. Two more steps, another chocolate.” She raised a finely arched brow, tilting her head to the side, almost birdlike. “What do you say to that?”

It was a bribe, plain and simple. She was bribing him, like a child, with candy.

But she was willing to sacrifice something she clearly loved, to help him, and in that moment, the briefest skip-of-his-heart moment, Genji allowed himself to feel something he hadn’t felt in months: hope.

“How could I say no?”


End file.
